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Poetry Breakfast

Serving a little poetic nourishment every morning. Start your day with our new expanded menu. Poems, of course, are our specialty. But we will also be serving a fuller menu that includes poetry book reviews to feed poets' and poetry lovers' souls.

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creative writing

Walls of Serenity – A Poem by Ninni Andersen

Walls of Serenity

“Take my hand”
he says pulling back
golden threads of wisdom
hanging swiftly from
an unseen ceiling

Walls of serenity
closes in on me
as I feel the soft skin
of his palm
pressing against mine

 

 

About the Poet:
Ninni Andersen is a Norwegian poet who has been living in Sweden the last 20 years.  She was born in the city of Drammen, Norway, in 1963.  She has been studying Art History, Philosophy and Social Work at the University of Umeå and the University of Linköping, Sweden.  She started writing in the early 90ties in Norwegian, but has since then also been writing poetry in Swedish and in English.  During a few years she was part of the poetry group Jordens Poeter (The Poets of the Earth) which arranged Open Stages for poetry in Stockholm.  Ninni Andersen has so far been self-published on the Internet at http://www.writers-network.com/index.cgi?m=1&do=profile&who=15886  and at  https://www.poeter.se/Medlem?writerId=30322

 

 

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Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  Twitter, Facebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

 

 

 

Grandmother – A Poem by Chaitali Gawade

Grandmother

My grandma’s hands are gnarled maps. Routes rivers stars terrains oceans and galaxies rest in her palm. Ridges and grooves have taken different roads, read different stories than mine. The gold studs at her ears have dimmed with age glass bangles jingle as she sways the latest baby of the house in her arms scrambling up trying to reach her potli filled with Aladdin’s treasures. Fevered brows were cooled by her soothing hands, she was the voice of practicality in a time of confusion and chaos, guiding me through failures, nudging me ahead of successes. Her feet have never felt the comfort of soft leather, her tongue never the joy of rich sauces. and yet I envy her, of her simplicity.

 

 

About the Poet:
Chaitali Gawade’s writerly musings are fuelled by tea and coffee. Her work has been published by  Unbroken Journal, Duckbill Anthology and Vagabondage Press, among others. She blogs at chaitaligawade.com

 

Photo by Polski.

 

Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  Twitter, Facebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

Bedtime Stories – A Poem by Katie Rendon Kahn

Bedtime Stories

Tucked between ample pillows,
seas of blankets,
and dog eared pages,
I sit campfire style
between my children.

There, I teach them
how to spin wonder
into their words,
cast spells with their voices,
turn pages into people
they will never forget.

They listen.
Hooked with anticipation,
they lean in when
the plot pulls

and when it thickens,
when enlightenment
shines upon their impressionable faces,
I reel them in.

 

 

About the Poet:
Katie Rendon Kahn lives on the Gulf Coast of Florida, where she chases adventure and poetry prompts with her children. Kahn and her 11 year old daughter turned a poem about places they wanted to see into a children’s book series called “World Adventures.” But, that hasn’t stopped her from continuing to write about the grown up stuff, too. Her poems have appeared in Blackwater Review, Broken Publications, Diverse Voices Quarterly, The Barefoot Review, and other anthologies.

 

Photo by  Alyssa.

 

 

Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  Twitter, Facebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

 

Reduced – A Poem by Marjorie Thomsen

Reduced

We still talk about the apricot
preserves confiscated at the airport
when we didn’t know
jelly was a liquid. We envision
a stranger spreading our shiny,
sunburst-orange affection
intended for another.

On a different trip,
returning from Honolulu,
I stand in security, wiser
and a little vain, adjusting
my new hair clip’s plastic flower
(same color as that damn jam).
I see a sign: “No Snow Globes”—
not that I purchased one on the island;
it’s just those ice skaters, their flawless
landscapes, the happy-go-lucky
immortal snowflakes,
already shrunk
to their most innocent.

 

About the Poet:
Marjorie Thomsen holds a master’s degree in social work from Catholic University in Washington, DC. Her poems have won awards from the New England Poetry Club and the University of Iowa School of Social Work. Pretty Things Please, her first collection of poetry, will be published in 2016 (WordTech Editions). Marjorie lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

 

Photo from Unsplash.

 

Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  Twitter, Facebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

can we just reincarnate – A Poem by j.lewis

can we just reincarnate

wouldn’t it be great she asked
if we could just reincarnate
drop these tired, broken bodies
and step into new flesh, new bones
new sneakers and new jeans

she laughed at the thought
pulled a photo from a red clutch
as tired and worn as she was
look
me at sixteen
full of ambition and no direction
sixty was nowhere in my mind
my heart, my bones
like it is today

do you think age has weight
she wondered aloud
and answered herself
i do, yes i do
everything feels heavier
harder to hold up
harder to hold onto

she thinks about her uncle
and his heaviness
of heart, of mind, of body
tries to fathom his loneliness
that universal unique pain
of separation, of sorrow
the turning to one no longer there
to complain or whisper his love
just today someone said
at least she this or that
at least he something else
and it was meaningless
wasted words
and no comfort at all

she looks up suddenly and smiles
remembering she is not alone
though she has been
more often than not
more often when it mattered most
do you know how hard it is
starting over again at sixty
with new work, new wrinkles, new worries

he smiled at the rhetorical question
as he scribbled a new poem
on her napkin
yes, he said quietly
yes

 

About the Poet:
j.lewis is an internationally published poet, musician, and nurse practitioner. His poems have appeared online and in print in numerous journals from California to Nigeria to the UK. When he is not otherwise occupied, he is often on a kayak, exploring and photographing the waterways near his home in California. His first collection of poetry and photography debuts on June 23, 2016, and is available on Amazon.

 

Photo by Iris Vallejo.

 

Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  Twitter, Facebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

Inside – A Poem by R. Bremner

Inside

Outside, the rain pounced on the unwary.

Inside, all sorts of time-honored
and respectable games
were going on:

Tongues were rolled.
Heads were met
and questioned.

Important words
were bounced while

all true dreams were
kept heavily sedated and

covered with thick blankets
of layered textures.

False dreams, of course,
were gaily trotted out,

outfitted in sweet-scented,
smart bonnets and marched

in the usual parade. In
random samples, we made our
exits as the clock ticked

away. By this time the
rain had caught its bus
for the suburbs.

The air was warm and thick,
and puddles abounded. One
had to step carefully

To avoid mashing the many
fat, long worms which

Struggled gamely along the
foreign concrete.

 

 
About the Poet:
R. Bremner, of Glen Ridge via Lyndhurst, NJ, USA, is a former cab driver, truck unloader, security guard, computer programmer, and vice-president at Citibank. He writes of dead kings and many things he can’t define, the clutter in your mind, and the color of time. Ron was in the very first issue of Passaic Review, along with Allen Ginsberg. He has appeared in   International Poetry Review, Oleander Review, Paterson Literary Review, Yellow Chair Review, and Poets Online (20 times) and sundry elsewheres.  Please visit him at Poets & Writers: http://www.pw.org/content/r_bremner , where milk and cookies await.

 

Photo by Jeff Juit.

 

Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  Twitter, Facebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

 

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